Temper, Temper
by Can'tStopImagining
Summary: Nicky Nichols gets herself thrown in the SHU. Lorna/Nicky.


A/N: First dip into this fandom... I've noticed a severe lack of these two as a primary ship in fics (although there are some incredibly talented writers paying credit to them, I must say) so I wanted to have a little go. This is part one of two. I would really appreciate some feed back as it's my first write for this show. Thanks for reading!

* * *

She'd always had a temper. Even as a child, she'd found herself ripping the heads off her teddy bears in an angry rage when something didn't go her way. It had been attention seeking, her mother had said. Of course, she had never been there when it happened, nor had it been her who hand-stitched the heads back on, or told little Nicole a story to calm her down and get her to sleep. She wasn't spoilt, like most of the other kids assumed. When Nicky threw a tantrum at school, it was because she wanted the headteacher to call her parents in. If nothing else, it would mean she saw her mother more than once a week.

Was it any wonder she grew up hot-headed?

She wasn't a bad person, contrary to popular belief. Okay, she had a drug problem. She was an addict. Many would say the same went for sex, although she wouldn't admit it. She couldn't have a drink without it turning into ten. And then she'd _have_ to wash that down with a shot of heroine. It was a cycle, and it was a problem, but it didn't make her a bad person. So, she'd wound up in prison? That was probably the best place for her. People actually cared about her in there, a concept that had always been completely alien to her on the outside. It made her a criminal. It didn't make her a monster.

She had to believe she wasn't a monster because that made it bearable. Not to get all deep – she rolled her eyes at the whole _philosophical _vibe Yoga Jones was known for – but believing there was still a shred of good in her heart was all that kept her alive. So long as that flame didn't go out, she would be okay.

Since meeting Lorna Morello, that fire had been burning stronger than ever. Morello made her a better person in every aspect of herself. It wasn't like she _loved_ the kid or anything... she was just nice to be around. A positive energy or whatever. She made her laugh, even when she didn't mean to. And man she was good in the sack. Really fucking good, considering that whole innocence thing she had going for her (if you could really consider someone who was in jail for mail fraud as 'innocent').

Nicky could never shout at Lorna. She would never even imagine laying a hand on her – well, one that wasn't well meant. And in turn, she had been better off for it. Sure, she had Red smacking her round the head if she did anything stupid, but then there would be the two days that followed it where she'd refuse to talk to her 'mother' because of it. If Lorna told her not to do something, she didn't do it. Simple as. She wasn't sure what it was about their complicated relationship that had forced her to trust Lorna so intently. It had started off just as a bit of fun, hadn't it? It had... until Nicky had found herself closing her eyes at night and thinking only of the softness of the other woman's skin, the way her hair felt against her fingers when she brushed it from her face. She dreamt of kissing her (_'it ain't like that Nichols; I can't betray Christopher, it needs to be purely physical ya know?_'), of falling asleep beside her, playing with her hair, drawing lazy circles on her skin. It was a feeling Nicky hadn't had since she was thirteen years old and had her first 'crush'.

It was downright disgusting, and yet, every damn time, she woke up with this goofy grin on her face that she couldn't explain.

It had become more manageable though. Just like her temper, she'd found ways of controlling it, little things to tell herself. It was just sex. Really really great sex. First rule of being a lesbian: never fall for a straight girl. Even if the things she does with her tongue make you question whether she really is straight... it doesn't matter. You don't do it. You just don't.

Because, when you fall in love with someone like Lorna Morello, you open yourself to a whole new world of problems, especially if you're Nicky Nichols.

It had started with a few stupid little spits and spats. Boo making her usual vulgar comments. Nicky responding with a sharp tongue and a raised fist. (_'Calm down Nichols, it's all just a bit of fun y'know. Okay. Hands off. I get it.') _One of the Latino girls started on Lorna in the lunch hall, and Nicky had quickly stepped in, only backing off when she felt Morello's fingers tangle with hers, a whispered 'come on Nichols, let it go' in a voice that was only ever so slightly higher than usual. She'd barely stopped herself from flying off the handle, but she _had. _No one had been hit. She'd gone to her cube to cool off, and she'd been fine.

She had been, anyway.

It was a particularly warm evening. She'd spent a long day in electrical, before gulping down a barely passable meal of watery chicken and rice (she wouldn't mention this to Red, of course), and now she fully intended to go back to her cube and listen to her stereo by herself for a while. She'd walked out to the hallway to find Lorna cowering in a corner, mopping her eyes, and not for the first time, she felt her heart grow heavy in her chest. Nicky cleared her throat, and Lorna looked up, forcing a smile, despite her red cheeks, smudged lipstick and watering eyes.

"Oh, Nicky, I'm fine... don't you worry about me," she tried, shrugging it off. As she moved, she winced a little, and it was then that Nicky noticed the weird way she was holding her right arm.

"What's wrong with your arm?"

Lorna gulped, looking more like a deer in the headlights than ever, "n-nothing."

Seizing her arm a little firmer than she had meant to – Lorna tried to muffle gasp - she gently rolled the sleeve of her top up, to reveal very obvious red finger marks around the girl's pale wrist.

"Who the fuck did this?" Nicky hissed, lowering her voice. She tried to remain calm, but her heart was pounding in her chest. What could Lorna have possibly done to anybody that they would hurt her? She shook her head, rubbing her fingers over the redness.

"I- Nicky... don't do anythin' stupid..."

"Tell me."

"Promise me you won't."

Nicky stared at her. How could she promise her anything. Somebody had done this, and whoever that person was, they needed to suffer for it.

"You know I can't do that..."

Lorna looked at her with sad eyes, and Nicky lifted a hand to her face, wiping away lingering tears. Reflexively, Lorna's face moved closer to her touch, rubbing against her fingers like a cat begging to be stroked.

"It was Mendes," she said quietly.

Just like that, something snapped within Nicky.

"Please, Nick... don't do anythin'. You'll get in-"

"Kid, I have to," she said through gritted teeth. Rising to her feet, she bent to drop a faint kiss to Lorna's forehead. It was an unusually gentle gesture for them, but it had felt oddly familiar. Lorna smiled sadly at her, seemingly accepting what was about to happen.

And that, was how Nicky Nichols had ended up being thrown in the SHU.

She wished she could say it was because she had beaten Mendes to a pulp. Or at least got one punch in before she'd been seized. But she hadn't. Nicky Nichols might have had a temper, but she wasn't completely stupid.

Or maybe she was.

She had, after all, got herself thrown into the box for having an 'altercation' which ended with her shouting 'kiss my ass' at a C/O.

In front of three other C/Os.

The last thing she saw, as she was being dragged away, continuing to curse and shout at him, was Lorna, sitting on the steps where she'd left her, sobbing her heart out.

_I'll make this right_, Nicky thought, _I dunno how. But I will._


End file.
